


Perchance to Dream

by Fabrisse



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-28
Updated: 2010-02-28
Packaged: 2017-10-07 15:17:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/66396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fabrisse/pseuds/Fabrisse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone deals with insomnia differently.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Perchance to Dream

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the February 2010 prompt at the LJ community criminal_prompt: Close your eyes.

Morgan sat straight up in bed before he was fully awake. His heart was pounding, and his hands were sweaty.

Clooney thumped his tail against the floor a couple of times before getting up and coming over to the bed to look at Morgan quizzically.

He reached out and rubbed the dog's head, scritching behind his ears until Clooney put his paws on the bed and licked his arm in excitement.

"No, boy. Not on the bed. Did you hear anything?"

Clooney just looked at him with an expression that said, "Get back to scritching."

"Didn't think so." He checked the clock: two-thirty in the morning

Morgan got out of bed and wandered to the kitchen. He gave Clooney a Milkbone and fresh water before pouring a small glass of milk for himself.

Nightmares happened. He knew his were worse when kids were involved. They'd been more frequent since his arrest in Chicago a couple of years back. And none of it mattered when he woke with his heart pounding in fear.

He turned off the light and headed back to the bedroom. He stopped and rebrushed his teeth and used a little mouthwash. The taste in the back of his throat when he had one of these was something he'd _never_ mention to anyone.

Morgan looked at the bed he'd just gotten out of. Clooney was curling back up in his dog bed in the corner.

He dimmed the lights and began a slow, simple kata. When he was done, maybe the nightmare's images would be gone, and he could close his eyes.

***   
The rocking chair soothed her as much as it did Henry. He'd just gotten that little bit heavier in her arms, indicating he was finally asleep.

The doorway darkened, and Will was standing there smiling. He lowered the side of the crib, so she could lay their baby down gently.

JJ took his hand and they left the room together, pulling the door gently behind them.

"Thank you for keeping him up for me. I wish I could tell you why, but…" JJ's lips twitched in what might have been an attempt at a smile.

"In that case, why don't you tell me what you can?" Will hugged her tightly, his quiet voice soothing. "You want something to eat?"

"They brought pizza into the office. I had a couple of slices. I'll add a half mile to my run in the morning." She started walking toward their bedroom. "I don't know if I can sleep tonight."

JJ thought for a minute, then said, "Reid's in the hospital. He nearly died. Today… was bad."

"Was he shot?"

"No, just sick."

Will said, "Came on quickly, I take it."

She nodded and headed to the bathroom. "I thought I might run a bath. Want to wash my back?"

"Sounds perfect, _chere_."

When he joined her a few minutes later, he wrapped his arms around her from behind and held tight until he felt JJ's muscles relax. "Bioterrorism?"

Her head snapped up so fast, she nearly hit him in the nose. "What?"

"Reid. Was he caught by bioterrorism?"

JJ stared at him.

Finally, Will said, "I was self-conscious about my accent when I went to college. Talked to my daddy about it one break, and he said, 'son, you can lose it if you like. Just remember, it can be useful to let people believe that just 'cause we talk slow, we think slow.' Reid nearly died, but you didn't say appendicitis or pneumonia or anything. It came on quick, but you didn't want to talk about it other than the worry. You asked me to keep Henry up, and, _chere_, you looked so relieved when you saw us tonight. I know you get all kinds of cases." He kept stroking her arms and cupping the warm water over her shoulders.

JJ eased back against him. "I didn't think you were slow. I thought I was a better actress." She gave a half laugh. "You're right. We caught him. That's all I can say."

"I understand. What say we get out of the tub and go to bed?" He kissed the top of her head.

"I think I could close my eyes."

***   
Emily thought she'd had eight hours of sleep in the previous forty-eight, but that could be an overestimation. The unsub's profile had been tough to nail down. One of her ideas had given them the break they needed to find some of his earlier cases, before he was killer. Garcia ran with the idea, and Reid saw the pattern and suddenly the profile was there. It had still taken them too long to find him. His latest victim was alive, but he'd already mutilated her feet.

As soon as she got home, Emily sorted her bag and added the little bit of laundry from her hamper. She'd put the load in the dryer in the morning. It might only be ten o'clock, but she needed the sleep. Hotch had told them they weren't expected before noon tomorrow and the morning briefing was postponed to thirteen hundred.

An hour later, she was still lying in a dark room and staring at the ceiling. The washing machine finished, and she climbed out of bed to put the load in the dryer and the next load in to wash.

She hated being too exhausted to sleep. It happened more often these days, probably because her cases were tougher now than they had been in the regional field office.

Emily thought for a moment, then decided to bring out the big guns.

After helping her mother with that horrid, sordid Russian mob case, they'd been on somewhat better terms. At Christmas, her mother had given her a large box with several items in it.

"I can tell you're not sleeping well. It runs in the family. You need sleep to be at your best, so I thought…" Elizabeth Prentiss had tried to explain the gifts.

Emily had smiled at her. "It was very thoughtful, Mother. Thank you. I'm going to have to ask Garcia to help me with some of it."

Now, Emily was thankful. Her mother really had been thoughtful. She went to the kitchen and warmed some milk and Horlick's on top of the stove. They'd all acquired a taste for it when they lived in Europe. American equivalents just never seemed to taste right or to work as well.

She poured it into a mug and let it cool a little while she dug out the white noise machine that had been the larger gift in the Christmas box.

Garcia _had_ been needed to set everything up. Heaven forefend that Elizabeth Prentiss get the second best of anything. There'd even been an attachment so she could "burn something in her UPS port," in her mothers' words.

The gentle rhythm of waves overset several other pieces. Reid had explained the internal mechanism to her one time when she was setting up her iPod with a copy so she could nap.

Frankly, Emily didn't care. As the white noise soothed her, she closed her eyes and drifted to sleep.

***   
Too many people who'd retired became alcoholics from boredom. When he was being especially honest with himself, Rossi knew it would have been an easy path for him. Right after the third divorce, it would have been really easy.

Instead, he'd written. His books had started as journals to keep himself sane. He thought Aaron had guessed it, but neither Gideon nor Ryan had. Well, look how they'd ended up. Alcoholism would have been better than breaking like Gideon or than losing yourself in that one case like Ryan had.

Being back in the field, with a full team spread the load a bit. There was always enough guilt, and sometimes shame, to go around on any case. This one, this one had been on him. Sometimes he thought he might be getting too old. He'd been doing this for over thirty years, and a pattern he'd helped name back in the late seventies had been recognized by Reid and Prentiss before he'd seen it. If it had just been Reid, he'd have put it down to genius. No one could deny the kid's credentials as far as that went. But Prentiss, while a smart cookie, should not have been able to see it before he had.

Rossi thought about pouring himself another half glass of red wine. His doctor had encouraged him to have a glass a night for its relaxation and heart properties. He knew himself too well. A half glass more tonight could become an easy two glasses a night and a beer or two with the TV later.

Instead, he pulled out a brand new notebook and began to write out elements of a case. This wasn't one they'd worked on, though it might have elements of several. It was the beginning of a novel. Maybe it would be good enough to publish, maybe not. Either way, it would relax him, help him get his mind together, so that when bedtime came he could close his eyes without worry.

***   
The bed dipped a little when Kevin got back in, and Penelope turned toward him.

"I didn't mean to wake you, babe."

"I know."

She felt his hands skimming over her body and turned toward him. The kiss was slow and sweet, and their hands were finding all sorts of sensitive spots. They pressed against each other.

Kevin whispered, "Close your eyes."

She did.

***   
There was someone in the room! Hotch willed himself to stay still as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. He heaved a sigh of relief and reached for the lamp.

"Jack?"

"You were having a bad dream, Daddy." He stood solemnly staring at his father. Jack held up his stuffed elephant and handed it to Hotch. "Sammy helps me sleep. I don't have bad dreams when I sleep with him."

"Thank you, buddy, but if I take Sammy, then you'll have bad dreams." Hotch was touched at his son's gesture even as he wondered how loud he'd been or what he'd said in his sleep.

Jack looked at him with big eyes.

Hotch slid over and lifted him into the bed. "Tell you what, tonight you stay here and we both sleep with Sammy. Tomorrow, maybe you'll let me pick one of your other animals to help keep my bad dreams away."

"Okay. I think Gigi would be good."

"Your giraffe, why?" Hotch was amused. He could feel the tension drain from his body.

"Well, even though she's a girl and an herbivore…" Jack pronounced the word very carefully, "She's big, and she'll stand in the way of bad dreams."

"Did Reid teach you about herbivores?"

Jack nodded sleepily and wriggled as he tried to settle comfortably. "He knows _lots_."

"No kicking, buddy."

"I know, Daddy."

Jack clutched Sammy tight to his chest, and Hotch held them both tight to his. He turned out the light and closed his eyes to rest.

***   
Reid turned off his computer. The article for the Journal of Abnormal Psychology was complete. He'd re-read it in the morning and probably submit it for peer review by the weekend. He'd learned to wait fairly early in his academic career. Waiting meant that he could add a paragraph of explanation or subtract an incorrect conclusion after the heat of writing was done.

He glanced at the clock. It was nearly three a.m. and he tossed a mental coin as to whether he should just stay up three more hours or try to get some sleep.

He headed for the bedroom and turned on his alarm, just in case he fell asleep in the living room. It would still wake him and probably half his apartment building too.

Hotch hadn't called tonight. On the one hand, it was a good thing. It meant Hotch didn't need to talk about the case and get things off his chest; it meant Reid had been able to concentrate and burn through the article quickly. On the downside, Reid wondered if Hotch would look pinched and drawn tomorrow. It was disturbing to see how tightly he was wound since his wife's murder.

Reid went to the kitchen and made himself a cup of Horlick's. Emily had turned him on to it, and even though he knew it didn't really promote sleep, the ritual and warmth always made him feel better.

He pulled a stack books from his shelf. It was mostly science fiction tonight, and wrapped himself in a blanket in a Canadian rocking chair near the window. He might not close his eyes tonight, but the theta waves from the rocking would ease his mind. Reid would watch another sunrise over the Capitol and keep trying to understand the world.


End file.
